Keep it Safe
by L May
Summary: "Not everyone is all good or all bad Draco, that's what makes human so interesting. We have both inside us; it all depends on what you choose to act on." she spoke quietly, analyzing every single word and sounding years wiser than she should.


So I've been tossing this idea around in my head, I don't think it's going to be a long long story. Maybe 10 chapters or so. We'll see where it goes. I've not abandoned my other stories but I'm not too sure where I wanted to head with them right now. Anyways, this is the story of how Draco mets and falls in love with Astoria. J.K. Rowling is the Queen, and everything belongs to her, except my plot, etc. etc. etc. Read, review, and enjoy. Much Love.

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Chapter 1 - The Hallow Walls

The walls were hollow and dark, like everything else around The Manor these days. The windows hadn't been opened since before the return of the Dark Lord and the chill from when he had walked these halls had not disappeared. The only times people had left The Manor in the last year were to go to trials against their family. The Malfoy's had spent too many days in the dark courts listening to witness' and rulings, it had all come down to the finally hours of the Battle at Hogwarts, where their allegiance had changed that saved them. It didn't hurt that Harry Potter himself had not only vouched for his mother but for Draco and his father as well.

Draco would lie in bed unable to sleep most nights; the horrors of The Manor and the war would play over in his head, the nights he did sleep, the night terrors would wake up in cold sweats gasping for air. He didn't dare step foot in the former dinning room that once sat Lord Voldemort himself. He felt uneasy in his own home, if you could call The Manor a home.

Staring up at the centuries old ceiling, he played the trials over in his head.

_ "Malfoy, Draco." The cold voice of the secretary called for him to enter the court. The court was round with seating that looked from above like a stadium, dark and made of marble. The Council of Magical Law sat across from him faces colder then the secretary's voice; the ones who would decide his fate stared down at him. _

_ "Mr. Malfoy you are under trial for your participation in the Second Wizarding War under the Dark Lord. Raise your right hand please, do you swear to tell the truth and only the truth." The leader of the Council boomed around the circle court. He did as he was told, raising her shaking head and swearing._

_ "I do," _

_ "Everyone may be seated." He boomed again. Draco then felt a hand clasp his shoulder; it was his family lawyer, Mr. Parkinson. He stiffed up at his touch._

_ "Don't worry my boy, we have an excellent case." Mr. Parkinson told him under his voice. His stomach felt uneasy at his words. _

_ "Mr. Malfoy, do you bear the dark mark?" The judge asked him, voicing booming through the place. _

_ "I – " _

_ "Is this a necessary question?" Mr. Parkinson asked the judge._

_ "If Mr. Malfoy declines to answer the question he will be detained, Mr. Parkinson." He looked directly at Mr. Parkinson and then at Draco. "Now, Mr. Malfoy, will you answer the question."_

_ "I do," He answered simply; he found that was the best way then over explaining._

_ "And when did you, Mr. Malfoy, acquire the dark mark?" The Judge's voice boomed through the court. Draco cleared his throat, it seemed so long ago that he had been branded with the black mark._

_ "I was just barely sixteen, July of '96," He couldn't recall the actually date, "sometime in the middle of July."_

_ "Were you asked to perform a special task to receive the mark?"_

_ "Objection!" he heard Mr. Parkinson's voice ringing in his ears, _

_ "On what ground?" the judge boomed back._

_ "That is unnecessary question." Mr. Parkinson yelled back. _

_ "Mr. Malfoy will answer the question, Mr. Parkinson." The Judge barked at him. "Mr. Malfoy?"_

"_Draco?" Mr. Parkinson boomed in his ear._

_ "Draco?"_

"Draco?" He heard his mother calling from outside the door, "Draco, dear, please come out." He shook his head, feeling groggy. "We have company."

He knew he couldn't say any longer in The Manor he had to leave. Walking out of his room, his mother looked pleased that he had come out; a real smile had not crossed her face in many months.

"Tell them I'm not here, that I've gone out." He told her, her face looked exhausted. He hated seeing his mother in so much pain, he hated being the one that caused her so much pain, but her trails had been long over before his; she had been the one who had lied to The Dark Lord, she had saved Harry Potter, not that he begrudged his mother. He was glad she was safe, that's all he ever wanted was for his mother to be safe, but there was an annoying voice in the back of his head that made him bitter. Bitter that it was all her fault, their entire fault that he was in this mess; that if their family had not been involved in the Dark Arts that none of this would have happened.

"Pans-" He heard his mother start before he apparated out of the slight with a loud crack.

He apparated into Diagon Alley, the first place he could think of. He had been here a thousand times before but not since the end of the war. The buildings were beginning to look like their old selves and wizards filled the streets again. Children laughing and running around, he almost forgot that it was July and all the students from Hogwarts would be off for the summer. He let his feet take him as he wandered through Diagon Alley with no real destination. He felt freed from the walls of The Manor, he knew he would return eventually to darkness but just for a small while he felt like a child again, staring up at the magical buildings with excitement and awe.

He then felt the eyes on him, glares from witches and wizards who knew him and didn't know him, the moment of freedom had passed and he was filled by a heavy hatred for himself. Even here, he could not escape. His past would follow him around for the rest of his life, even now after the trials were over and finished, the Malfoy name would be tarnished.

Before he knew it he was facing an old faded brick wall, the brick wall to the Leaky Cauldron. Every witch and wizard knew how to get in and out of muggle London; it was those who wanted to travel amongst the muggles who used the passage regularly. Draco who had only been in muggle London a handful of times, thinking about it he could feel a pit in his stomach start to form. Counter-clockwise to enter, clockwise to leave we remember as he tapped the bricks with his wand in a clockwise manner. He took a small step back and watched the old bricks rip apart to create an entrance to a courtyard.

Draco inhaled sharply taking in the courtyard; it smelt of damp moss and dirt. He walked through it with hesitation. The Leaky Cauldron was dingy, dark and crowded with intoxicated wizards, none of which were paying attention to him as he walked through and out the door. He was greeted by a honks that he could only guess was coming from the large metal contraptions the muggles strapped themselves into to. Muggles swirled around him, rushing around like they were on some important business; he scowled at the thought. He was hyperaware that his wand was pressed tightly against his hip, just as precaution. He started to walk with them, crossing the street with them, becoming part of them, how his ancestries must be turning over in their graves if they knew he was walking amongst the Muggles.

He hadn't walked far; he could still see the Leaky Cauldron's door, in case he had to make a hasty exist, but he had stopped in front of a coffee shop. It looked as though not many muggles went into it, maybe it wasn't very good, Draco thought to himself. It was then when he was deep in thought that a woman came rushing out and bumped right into him, dropping a bunch of papers and books around herself. Muggles, he thought with a shake of his head, always in a rush to go back their mediocre lives.

"Oh, I'm terrible sorry, I didn't see you there." The woman started apologizing, a mess of thick light mouse brown hair swirling around her as she franticly picked up her papers.

"It's quite alright," He said with little emotion. The woman straightened herself out and finally looked at Draco, no she was more of a teenager, no more than 18. She was average in height, although nowhere near Draco's height, with a soft but thin frame that was dressed causally in jeans and a loose t-shirt. Her face was cut finely; her thick hair made her high cheekbones pop out as well as her hard jawline. Her brown eyes pierced into him as if he had displeased her. He was hit with recognition, though he would have never seen this muggle woman in his entire life.

Draco bent down to grab the paper that she had missed, turning it over in his hand; he recognized the language – it was from his world, a bunch of spells had been written in ink.

"Who are you?" Draco demanded, how had they found him, here, in muggle London? He smelt a faint fragrance of roses and vanilla as she leaned in to snatch her paper out of his hand.

"You don't recognize me?" She asked annoyed, maybe to throw him off, should he know who this girl is? He knew she had looked familiar, but he still couldn't place her face. "Daphne, Daphne Greengrass is my sister." She spook like she wasn't too inclined to giving him her name.

"The other Greengrass?" He questioned her.

"Its Astoria, actually." Her tone was cool, as if she had answered the question too many times.

"Draco – " He started but she cut him off.

"Malfoy – I know who you are." She said brushing a piece of her thick hair behind her ear.

"Of course," Of course she knew who he was, everyone in the Wizarding world knew who he was and what he had done, and what he hadn't done. There was no escape. Not that he cared what a little girl of no significance thought of him, though she didn't seem to care who he was.

"Goodbye Draco," She told him softly and starting walking towards the Leaky Cauldron her hair blowing out around her before he could say anything in return. She didn't look back once, not that he blamed her, but he could help but stare as she walked away. He tried to remember her, tried to remember her being around Daphne that all, although she must have been, he couldn't remember. Daphne, who looked the opposite of Astoria with her blond hair and curvy body; though in their faces you could see relation, was friends with Pansy, mostly because they shared a room he thought, had been such a quiet girl the last few years. Although most of them were going through things with their families and the war he never did brother to ask her what was wrong; they hadn't truly been that good of friends. He had been dealing with his own life and his own problems and it didn't really seem all too necessary at the time.

He stood on the steps of that coffee place for a while before he took off looking for an abandoned alley and apparated back to the manor. He apparated just after the gates and walked through the gardens, everything was in bloom and in it's prime, the albino peacocks paying him not attention as they always did. As a child he sat amongst the peacocks, just watching them; they were mysterious birds, calm, but strong – nothing like him, he thought. He was neither calm nor strong, just crowdedly.

As he stepped into the manor, he knew he had been gone a couple hours but he still knew there would be no escaping the company that was about to descend upon him. There was no preparing for ear spitting shriek of joy that would be followed by annoying chatter of nonsense. And there she was, Pansy, sitting with her parents as he stepped into the formal living room, her hair perfectly in place, as were her robes; the perfect pure blood mate. The thought made his stomach turn. She turned her head, her pug nose turned up even more now that she grinned widely, and then he hear the excitement in her voice.

"Draco, there you are." She stood up at once and grabbed his hands. "Where have you been, I've been waiting."

"I had a few errands to run," He choose his words carefully, not to give too much away of his little adventure into the muggle city. He looked to his mother who was sitting quietly sipping on tea; he had felt her eyes on him the moment he walked in.

"Do come sit, we have lots to discuss." She chirped. Mr. Parkinson gave him a nod and a firm handshake; Draco didn't look him in the eye, not after the trails. Mrs. Parkinson sat beside her husband; she was a thin-framed woman, with the same pug like nose as her daughter and thick dark hair. She was a socialite in her prime, his mother had told him once, she did nothing but gossip with the other witches and drink a lot of fire whiskey.

"Now Draco, have you gave any thought to my offer?" Mr. Parkinson asked him eagerly.

"He would be pleased to take you up on your offer – " Lucius began; he had begun trying to raise his social standing a year after the war.

"But, I have to give it more thought, as I'm not entirely sure that I want to go in that direction with my career." Draco cleared his thought. He hadn't given Mr. Parkinson's offer much thought; the offer of coming to work for him had never been appealing at all to Draco. Though, he was in no position to give up a job at the current time, the thought of working with Pansy's father made him sick.

"Dear boy, this is a position of a lifetime. It is exactly what you need, especially if you do plan on having a life with my daughter." He smiled down adoringly at Pansy and Pansy grinned at Draco, making him feel even more ill.

"I'd rather take a bit more time with my decision, I'm currently looking into a job within the ministry," He lied smoothly, "But if you would excuse me,"

He needed to get away from them, from the pure bloods, from anything blood related really. He darted through the empty halls, leaving paintings of his ancestries heads looking after him, finally reaching his bedroom, he closed and locked the door behind him with a sigh of relief. He lay down on his bed with his hands over his face, he saw her face, and her thick hair whizzing around behind his eyelids. He thought of Astoria, he couldn't stop himself; she had been in such a weird place. Why had she been there? Why was he there in the first place? He slowly drifted off thinking of the scent of roses and vanilla.


End file.
